


The Black Dog and The Wolf

by jennandblitz



Series: The Wolven Stars [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Magic, My two favourite things, Sexual Content, Sirius Black is a Witcher, Strangers to Lovers, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Werewolf!Remus, Werewolves, Witcher - Freeform, Witcher Werewolves, Witcher!Sirius, but you don't need to know The Witcher to enjoy the Wolfstar, this is utterly self indulgent, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 10:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17486756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandblitz/pseuds/jennandblitz
Summary: An utterly self-indulgent piece where Sirius is a Witcher, and Remus is, of course, a werewolf.Thank you to fellow Witcherphile Chromat1cs for a wonderful beta!





	The Black Dog and The Wolf

_Strange_ , Sirius thought, spurring his horse on with a soft click of his tongue. _Wolves don’t usually come this close to the path._

He pushed a strand of hair back from his eyes and urged the horse forward to the cacophony of howls around him. The woods were relatively large and dense, but the path through the centre of them provided the quickest route through to the capital city. The howls sounded closer, the deeper they got into the forest, and Sirius fingered the pommel of the steel sword on his back. He didn’t relish the idea of having to kill a wild beast, but if they acted as riled up as they sounded, he wasn’t sure he would get much choice. It was barely dusk and he could hear the scuffle of the undergrowth around him, the woods teeming with life.

Sirius readied a _Flipendo_ under his palm, watching the edges of path with bright eyes. His Witcher training had given Sirius keener senses, as well as the mastery of magic. The School of the Lion trained him rigorously in all types of melee combat, potion-making and magic. All through his childhood Sirius ran the gauntlet with other boys, leaping from post to post brandishing a wooden sword, or foraging in the forest around Kaer Aëte for potion ingredients, or practising spells with Mistress McGonagall. Sirius knew no other life but that of a Witcher, so the _Flipendo_ came easily to his fingers, itching under the skin just in case one of the wolves became brave and attempted to pounce.

The horse whinnied, her sure footsteps stuttering on the dirt path. Sirius urged her forward, eyes scanning the edge of the trees. Then, the brush parted like the swoop of theatre curtains on opening night, the howls like tumultuous applause, and three wolves leapt out of the darkness onto the path in front of Sirius. Sirius reigned his horse in, wondering at once whether _Stupefy_ might be better to get the wolves to leave him alone. They were stunning creatures, bathed in the reddish orange of the sun setting to the west, and Sirius didn’t really want to kill them unless he was left with no choice. The horse whinnied again, eyes wide in fear. Sirius shushed her and watched the wolves circle closer, noses twitching madly.

Just as Sirius was about to hit the trio with a spell, a singular howl sounded from the depths of the woods. It rang through the trees like they were bells, resonant - the ground seemed to vibrate with the force of the howl, the whole wood seemed to come alive under the sound, and the three wolves perked immediately. Without a single look back to Sirius they took off back into the trees. Sirius couldn’t place the direction of the howl, all around him, the sound singing through his bones, and the wolves seemed to disappear back into the darkness as quickly as they had appeared.

Sirius wasn’t easily put off. Years as a Witcher tended to give one an excuse to be unflappable. Nothing surprised Sirius, not any more. He always watched on with calm detachedness regardless of how horrific the scene might have been. But he found his fingers shaking on the reigns of his horse. The howl of the wolf still rang through him, resonating through his insides, and he felt a rush of gratefulness at the sight of torchlight at the edge of the woods. He spurred his horse forward towards the outskirts of the village and slipped from the saddle outside the small inn, pretending not to breathe a sigh of relief.

The door of the inn opened with a bang, revealing a wide-eyed man on the other side, who looked around wildly before fixing Sirius with a look of surprise. “Good Sir! What are you doing out in the night? The wolves will get you! Are you slow? Come in, come in, good God.”

Sirius smiled and pulled his collar aside to show the silver Lion medallion at his throat. “Good sir,” he drawled, “the wolves will not bother me.”

The man stilled. Sirius watched his shoulders relax and heard his heartbeat sink back into its usual rhythm. He went back to tying his horse at the post outside the inn, along with two others, as the man spoke. “Apologies, Master Witcher. A-Are you just passin’ through?â” He stepped back from the door to draw it open. Sirius saw the fire in the hearth flickering and smelt the stew cooking there.

“That’s certainly my intention.” Sirius smiled disarmingly and strolled towards the inn. “But, do tell me, these wolves. Is this normal? It’s always like this?”

The inn-keep admitted him into the room and bolted the door behind them. “Aye, sir. For the past four seasons or so, only at night, mind.” He watched Sirius toe off his boots and pull his gloves from his hands. “Say,” he started, wringing his hands, “you’re Sirius, the Black Dog, are you not, sir? Of the Lion?”

Sirius straightened and kicked his boots under the table. “The Black Dog, good man. Aye, that’s me.” He settled cross-legged in front of the fire and peered at the pot of stew. “Any chance for a bowl of this? And we can discuss my payment for ridding you of these wolves.”

  


* * *

  


The next afternoon found Sirius at the edge of the woods, kneeling to study the carcass of a sheep one of the farmers had directed him towards. He sighed and sat back on his heels. These were no normal wolves, he was sure of that. Wolf packs rarely grew this big, nor did they usually encroach onto humanity unless their territory was being encroached on in turn. The inn-keep assured Sirius that they did not step into the woods unless it was absolutely necessary, and the path stopped only a few yards into the trees. The inn-keep wasn’t aware of anyone who had gone further than the path into the woods and come out on the other side.

Sirius rose effortlessly to his feet, adjusting the sword on his back, and stepped into the woods. His eyes were trained for tracks, paw prints through the mud, cracks in the undergrowth, a tuft of fur caught on the bark of a tree. It was tedious work, picking through the woodland to see if there was anything else untoward hiding in the greenery.

What was strange, Sirius realised as he paused against a large oak tree and stilled to look around, was that he hadn’t seen a single wolf as of yet. For a woods that sounded teeming with the beasts only twelve hours ago, it was all but dead in the afternoon light. Sirius pulled the tie from his hair before rearranging it back into a loose knot at the nape of his neck. There was definitely something strange in these woods. Perhaps it was the scent of magic in the area, a slight tingling Sirius felt at the back of his throat, pins and needles beneath his fingernails. But there was something off.

A glance to the west, then up through the canopy, told Sirius it was only an hour or so until sundown. Whatever was going to happen in that woods would come alive again when the sun dipped below the horizon. Sirius rubbed a hand over his mouth and settled against the foot of the oak tree, kneeling in meditation. To onlookers, Sirius might’ve looked relaxed, but he was poised, ready to spring into action, grab the sword from his back. He let out a long breath and waited.

Sirius knew the minute the sun had set. His eyes flickered open, cat-like, at the wave of magic that passed through him. The air in the woods seemed to shift, like black pepper up his nostrils, heady and hot. Sirius shifted and slowly rose to his feet, eyes casting all over the trees to try and pinpoint its source. He didn’t have to wait long.

It felt as if the howl actually _started_ within Sirius’ ribs, echoing out of his torso and rattling off of the trees around him. But it didn’t, Sirius had to take a moment to remember; the howl seemed close by, shaking the shrubbery around the man stood alone in the woods. He stilled, rifling through the catalogue of information in his brain, the years he’d spent at Kaer Aëte studying. The magic, the eerie howl, the large pack of wolves.

A werewolf.

It had to be. A cursed creature, doomed to turn into an animal every night when the moon took its place above the horizon, to run and hunt and kill until the sun rose again. Sirius sighed and touched the pommel of his silver sword. Cursed beings were always a grey area. Sirius knew other cursed things that were more human than curse, or people who were dear to _someone_ before they were cursed. Some Witchers thought that cursed ones were no better than beasts, things to kill before they killed, things to be put in their place.

Sirius wasn’t sure he agreed. All curses could be lifted, and he was wary to condemn someone to death just because they had been cursed.

Sirius looked around and easily spotted a group of paw prints through the undergrowth. He followed them, deftly hopping over fallen tree trunks, avoiding nasty looking patches of poison oak, ducking under low hanging vines. Sirius moved with a fluid grace, in total control of his body.

The woods stretched on in all directions, the canopy so thick it blocked out the moonlight in some places, plunging Sirius into a heady darkness that seemed to close in on him. He could hear the wolves around him, but for some reason they didn’t come any closer.

By the time Sirius found the gaping black maw of a cave, dawn could have only been hours away. He stood for a few moments, observing the mouth of the cave from a vantage point a few feet away. He wasn’t sure he was looking at anything important until another howl rang through him. Sirius scrambled up a nearby tree and settled on a high branch to watch.

A racket sounded from within the cave then, banging and tearing, then great thudding footsteps up out of the darkness and into the small clearing.

“Merlin,” Sirius breathed, as the werewolf skidded into the clearing and looked around with yellow eyes. He was right, he knew it had to be a werewolf. Now he only needed to keep it from spilling into the village until the dawn. Sirius drew his sword - steel, not silver - and brought his fingers to his mouth to whistle. At once, the werewolf looked up from snuffling the ground and found Sirius easily. The werewolf snarled and leapt over to the tree, attempting to claw its way up towards him to rip him limb from limb.

Sirius swung onto a higher branch and thrust a hand towards the beast. “ _Incarcerous._ ”

At once, ropes sprung from the vines of the tree and wrapped around the limbs of the werewolf, pulling him snuggly against the tree. The werewolf howled and thrashed, biting at the vines and ropes to try and find some release. Sirius hopped over to the next tree and settled on a high branch to observe the werewolf. Dawn smelt closer now, only an hour or so.

“Sorry, friend,” he muttered, shaking his fingers to dispel the lingering magic he felt there. “Only for a short while.”

  


* * *

  


Sirius stifled a yawn and swung down from the tree to land soundly next to the werewolf. Dawn was minutes away, and the beast had apparently calmed, curling up against the base of the tree. Sirius had had to recast the _Incarcerous_ every time the werewolf chewed through the ropes, but it had done the job.

The wolf was huge. It ran on four legs, longer limbs, some awful cross between man and beast. Its eyes were a feral yellow, teeth the size of the dagger at Sirius’ belt, a slavering mouth full of them. But it seemed to grow smaller in the burgeoning dawn light, curled up against the tree.

As the dawn filtered through the trees and hit across the fur of the wolf, it shifted before Sirius’ eyes. Where there had been fur, there was now sickly pale skin, criss-crossed with pink and silver scars. Where there had been paws, there stretched hands and feet, long fingers, bruised and dirty, bloodied. Where there had been a wolf, moments before, there lay a man. Sirius drew closer and gingerly rolled the man onto his back with the toe of his boot.

_He is beautiful_ , Sirius thought after a moment of slack-jawed surprise. Dirty blonde hair, curling over into his eyes, chiseled features, full lips, long limbs of pale white skin, heavily freckled. Sirius let out a long breath and crouched next to the man, aching at the thought that he was the wolf Sirius had bound to the tree all night. Sirius reached out, one hand on his belt for his dagger, and touched his shoulder.

The wolf-man jerked away, sitting upright with a sharp inhale, moss green eyes looking around wildly. His chest was rapidly rising and falling, his body immediately shuddering. “Who- What? What? Oh, Godric, Godric, I didn’t mean to… did I get free? Oh…” He scrambled back on unsteady limbs and pressed against the tree.

Sirius sank to his knees and held out one hand, heart hammering in his throat. His grey eyes, pupils slitted from the Witcher mutations, skittered all over the man before him, curled up and shivering against the tree.

“You’re a W-Witcher! D-Don’t kill me, p-please. I don’t mean to - I don’t mean to hurt anyone.”

Sirius adamantly shook his head, holding both of his hands out, palms up. “I’m not going to kill you.” He shifted a little and watched as the wolf-man flinched. He was holding his shoulder awkwardly, cradling the arm to his chest. In the growing light, it was easy to see a ring of blue-black around the joint. “Your shoulder, it looks dislocated.” It was probably from trying to rip his way out of Sirius’ ropes. “Let me help you.”

The wolf-man shook his head wildly, the curls bouncing against each other and catching the light. “N-no - no. Just leave me, please - p-please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Sirius reiterated, his voice growing firmer. He waited a moment before shifting forward onto one knee. He moved slowly, leaning closer, wary of the wounded man in front of him. He seemed frozen in place, like their places of prey and predator had shifted. Sirius laid a hand on the injured shoulder and muttered _Episkey_. The swelling and bruising lessened immediately and Sirius watched the man slump a little. He sat back and levelled the wolf-man with another look. “I’m not going to kill you. Where do you live? What do they call you?”

The wolf-man slowly pulled himself to his feet on shaky legs. “There’s a cabin under a- a Disillusionment charm, to the west a little.”

Sirius rose to his feet and found the wolf-man was an inch or two shorter than him. The man stepped forward and wavered, unsteady. Sirius caught him around the waist and shot him a small smile. The wolf-man did not return it, but allowed it, and lead him towards the cabin.

  


* * *

  


The cabin was well hidden, tucked away beneath a thick canopy of trees where it was hard to tell the time of day. The wolf-man had waved his hand to dispel the charms surrounding it and toed open the door. It was a single room, with a fire pit at one end, and a large pallet covered with furs at the other.

Sirius helped the man to the pallet. “You rest, I’ll start the fire.”

He shook his head but sank into the furs nonetheless. “What are you doing?”

Sirius threw a few logs from the basket next to the hearth into the pit, and cast a quick _Incendio_ from his fingertips. He pulled off his gloves and set them on the stone surrounding the pit. “Hm?”

The man was half-laying on the pallet, a fur tangled around his legs. He was watching Sirius with wide moss-green eyes, endlessly suspicious. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need help.” Sirius sat on a crate next to the fire pit, the only other piece of furniture within the cabin.

“I’m a monster.”

“You’re cursed. You were a human before that, weren’t you?” Sirius studied his fingertips, feigning nonchalance, distraction. Anyone who knew the Black Dog knew he was always poised for action, his guard never down.

“I-” Remus cleared his throat and watched the fire for a long time. “I guess I was.” Sirius lifted his gaze from his fingertips and saw the look of strange confusion on the mans face. It seemed as though no one had ever told him something like that. There was a moment or two of silence. “Remus. My name is Remus.”

Sirius’ smile broadened and he too looked back at the fire. “I’m Sirius.”

  


* * *

  


At some point during the day, Sirius moved from the crate to sit on the pallet next to Remus. The night had dragged out behind them and Sirius was tired, but he was able to move past it to focus on what was important. Remus dozed throughout the day, eyes flickering rapidly beneath their lids. They had a few muttered conversations, between Remus’ drifting. Remus had lived in the woods for just over a year, he had never seen another person in that time, save for when he was the wolf, of which he could remember nothing. He tried to chain and barricade himself in the cave at which Sirius first discovered him, but every so often, the wolf broke free of its confines.

Sirius watched him avidly, brushing away the sweat beading on his brow. Every so often, he trailed his fingers over the pinkish scars littering Remus’ body. He flattened his hand over a gnarled twist of flesh across his belly and muttered another _Episkey_. It didn’t get rid of the scar entirely, but it seemed a little less red and angry.

Remus stirred at the flutter of magic. He lifted his head from the wadded fur beneath it and watched Sirius with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “Sir’us?”

“Here,” Sirius murmured, not removing his hand from Remus’ abdomen. He didn’t seem to care, just shifted further down into the furs. Sirius smiled and circled his fingers over the warm skin, feeling it rise and fall with each of Remus’ breath.

Later, when sundown could have only been an hour or two away, Remus awoke with more immediacy. His eyes were tinged with yellow and he sat up ramrod straight. Sirius lifted his chin, stirring from his meditation.

“I need to go.” Remus’ voice sounded rougher.

Sirius slid from the bed, immediately awake and alert, and pulled on his boots and gloves. He nodded. “I’ll come with you. To the cave?”

Remus shook his head. “You should leave.”

Sirius smiled and shook his hair out before tying it back up. “No. I’ll come with you. I can stop you from getting to the village.” That seemed to appeal to Remus, and Sirius didn’t miss the flash of fear in his eyes. He was terrified that the wolf would hurt someone, and that he would be none the wiser at sunup.

“The wolf will hurt you.”

“It can try.”

Remus paused for a moment, watching the Witcher carefully. “You insist?”

Sirius just nodded and crossed his arms.

“You’re stubborn,” Remus retorted before pulling on a pair of breeches and a shirt that appeared more holes than material.

Sirius threw his head back and barked a laugh that seemed to shake the walls of the cabin. Remus quirked an odd smile that seemed ill-at-ease on his lips.

  


* * *

  


If Sirius thought the cabin was a hovel, then the cave could only be described as a cesspit. Silver and dimeritium shackles hung from one stone wall, caked with blood and rust. Tufts and matts of fur littered the floor along with even more congealed blood. Carcasses of animals - sheep, rabbits, boar - were piled in the corner. Sirius swallowed down a gulp of breath against the stench. Remus hung his head and pushed aside a tuft of fur with his foot.

“You should leave,” he reiterated, wrapping his arms around his midriff.

Sirius shook his head and shifted uncomfortably. “You lock yourself in there every night?”

Remus picked one of the shackles up and set it around his wrist. Sirius didn’t miss the stab of pain that ran through his face when he clicked the lock shut. “Not every night.” Remus hissed out a breath and Sirius heard the sizzle of flesh, the silver against the skin of a werewolf. “It’s only h-half of the month. When the moon is gibbous.”

Sirius watched for a moment, processing the fact that what he learned at Kaer Aëte had been inaccurate. He assumed werewolves had to turn every night of the month, but somehow that seemed worse - fourteen days as a human, counting down to the moment where the wolf would emerge again. Sirius shook himself from the thought and crossed over to help Remus into the second shackle after watching him struggle to lock it with the other hand already secured.

Sirius swallowed a wave of revulsion and looked at Remus, who was wavering somewhere on the edge of consciousness, the stench of burning flesh emanating from his wrists. “Fourteen days is too long, Remus,” he muttered, pushing the curls back from his forehead.

Remus’ vision swam and he tipped his head back against the stone wall to fix Sirius with a curious look, as if no one had ever spoken to him with such a soft tone of voice. Then, it shifted, and Sirius heard a growl rumble from his throat. “You should leave, Sirius. Go-” he hissed and clenched his jaw against a crack of pain- “Wait outside.”

Sirius took a step back, then another and another. The magic seemed to flair in the air again, thickening and heating. He watched in horror as Remus’ limbs shifted and contorted. Fur split from his skin, teeth lengthened, nails grew to claws, ribs broken and reset, joints dislocated and moved. The werewolf shuddered for a moment, then stiffened, and let out a great howl that shook Sirius to his core. It lunged, pulling taut against the chains to try and leap at Sirius, teeth bared and slavering. Sirius scrambled back up out of the cave, trying to catch his breath, heart hammering. Eventually he settled at the mouth of the cave to wait out the dawn, trying not to listen to the howls echoing from beneath.

  


* * *

  


The dawn didn’t come quickly enough. As soon as the howls turned to groans, Sirius dropped back into the cave and found a sight that wrenched his heart. Remus was black and blue and covered in blood. His breath was shallow and ragged, and the wolf had apparently tried to chew his way out of the shackles.

Cursing to Merlin, Sirius fell to his knees, whispering an _Alohamora_ to undo the shackles, quickly followed by as many _Episkey’s_ as he could to try and stem the bleeding. He had spent but 24 hours with the man, and yet the thought of his being wandering off to the Isles of Avalon seemed to send cold dread dripping down Sirius’ spine. He wanted to scream with the cruelty of it all - Remus, who was so scared of hurting anyone, who lived entirely on things foraged from the woods, until, for fourteen nights at a time, he turned to a murderous beast who ate the insides of rabbits and spread the gore over the walls of that cave.

Sirius thought he was utterly indifferent to the plights of the world. He couldn’t care what happened in the cities, with politics, sorceresses, secret coups and plans of intrigue. He thought that meant he didn’t really care about a thing, that he just did what he must to retrieve a coin purse for his contract. But he _did_ care about this, the unfairness of this gore-strewn cave and the broken man inside.

Easily, Sirius lifted Remus into his arms, still unconscious, and strode through the forest back towards the cabin. At the edge of the Disillusionment charm, Sirius gently shook Remus’ shoulder.

“We’re at the cabin, I need you to lift the wards, Remus…”

Remus tilted his head onto Sirius’ shoulder, leaving a smudge of blood over his armour, and barely lifted his hand to dismiss the spell. Sirius pressed his lips together and set Remus on the pallet in the corner before starting the fire again with a quick _Incendio_. He felt on edge, wound tight, senses trained on the rapid, shallow breaths rattling in and out of Remus’ chest, his wavering pulse. He found a cloth, filled a bowl with _Aguamenti_ , and began to wash the blood from his skin.

The sun was at its zenith above the cabin when Remus started to stir, his eyebrows pitching together, lips twitching.

Sirius jerked awake from his meditation and watched carefully. “Remus?”

“Sirius?” He groaned, eyes finally open, back to their moss-green. “What happened?”

“The wolf didn’t like the shackles… Maybe it could smell me.” He wondered for a moment if it would be better for the wolf if he did indeed leave, but Sirius quickly dismissed it. He didn’t think his insides would allow him to be even an arms reach away from Remus. “We’re not doing that again.”

Remus smiled a wry smile. “We?”

“Yes, we.” Sirius affirmed, trying to remember how many days it had been since the full moon, how long he had to stand by and watch Remus tear himself apart.

Remus shifted and stretched his legs out, a soft noise of pain issuing from his lips. His feet, cold and clammy, pressed against Sirius’ thigh. Sirius smiled and rubbed a hand over the top of his foot, and his heart soared to see Remus smile back.

“I can’t lock you up in those shackles again,” Sirius said after a moment of silence.

“You barely know me, Sirius. You _don’t_ know me.”

“I know enough.” Sirius slid his thumb over the arch of Remus’ foot, careful to avoid a pinkish scar there. “I know you don’t deserve this curse. It is ripping you apart.”

“I’ve survived for the past two decades Sirius.” Remus was quick to retort. He drew his other foot back in towards his body, tucking his knee to his chest, but he allowed Sirius to still knead his thumb into the sole of his other foot. A small grace, Sirius thought.

“And how often have you smiled in the past two decades, Remus?” Sirius shot back, gaze trained on his own fingers.

He felt Remus still under him and glanced up to see moss-green eyes burning into him. Remus looked so small, huddled under the furs of the pallet, one leg tucked up against him in some semblance of emotional armour. Remus’ throat bobbed with a swallow and his lips formed the words a few times before the corresponding noise appeared. “Never.”

Sirius smiled, slowly leaning up and gently grasping his other foot. He pulled it towards him, back into his lap, to knead at the knot in the sole of that foot too.

Remus leant forward, careful not to dislodge his feet from Sirius’ lap, and brushed his fingers through the hair at Sirius’ temple. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a friend before.”

Silence fluttered between them, Sirius’ nimble fingers working their way up to Remus’ calves, working at the tight muscles there too. Remus’ fingers stayed in the hair behind his ear and after a while, Sirius leant his head into the touch there. He turned slightly and pressed a kiss to the tender skin of Remus’ wrist. “Well, now you do.”

  


* * *

  


That night, Sirius accompanied Remus once again to the cave. They walked together, hands clasped and clambering over the wild undergrowth. Once there, Sirius crossed over and stood resolutely in front of the shackles. “I think you’re okay without them.”

“Sirius,” Remus laughed, disbelieving, and shook his head. “No.”

“I want to try something. I can’t lock you up. Not again, Remus.”

Remus leant against the wall, so tired so close to sundown. “What do you suggest?”

“If you try to leave the cave, I can stop you. Without hurting you. I think I can… I don’t know, contain him.”

“It,” Remus corrected, “not him.”

Sirius sighed. “Yes, whatever. I just - I just can’t lock you up.”

“Then don’t. Let me do it. Leave.”

“No. I’m not leaving.”

“I’m not letting the wolf kill.”

“I won’t let it.”

“Sirius!”

Sirius closed the gap between them and took Remus’ face between his hands. Remus tensed, his hands flying to the thick leather bracers on Sirius’ forearms. “Do you trust me?”

“I barely know you.” Remus’ voice was softer, his eyes, slowly filling with yellow, flickered across Sirius’ face. Sirius was close enough to feel the other man's breath on his face.

“Do you trust me?”

Remus let out a long breath and seemed to slump into Sirius’ arms. “Yes.”

Sirius wound his arms around the other man's waist, and tilted his head to allow Remus to rest his face into the crook of his neck. He held tight as the sky shifted outside, despite Remus’ protestations and whimpered pleas, only releasing him when he felt fur beneath his fingers. Sirius backed away slowly, hands out in front of him, and knelt down at the entrance to the cave before drawing his steel sword and laying it in front of him. He watched, unable to look away, until the wolf was where Remus stood.

It snarled, lifting its head to pin Sirius with a look that would’ve made his blood run cold had he not known who that really was. Sirius stayed still, meeting the wolf’s yellow gaze evenly. He kept his breathing even through his nose, and forced his heart to slow - he would not let the wolf sense fear. The wolf snarled, lips curling back from its teeth with its hackles raised.

“Easy, easy,” Sirius murmured, holding his hands out.

The wolf leapt, claws digging into the dirt, and sunk its teeth into Sirius’ arm. Sirius heard the _ting_ of its teeth hitting the dimeritium plate of the bracer, and he shoved the wolf back with a _Flipendo_ from his other hand, just strong enough to knock him back. Sirius snarled back, teeth bared.

The wolf skidded backwards, pinning Sirius with a look that was something between surprise and confusion. Sirius bared his teeth again and shook away the pain in his arm, glad that it hadn’t broken the skin. The wolf paced a circle around Sirius, eyeing the cave entrance behind him. Sirius stayed half-knelt, on one knee, watching.

Again, the wolf pounced, jaws open. Sirius turned to the side and pushed the wolf away again, without magic that time. It cocked its head, curious, and Sirius growled back, pacing forward. The wolf huffed in annoyance, but sat back on its haunches.

Dawn felt as if it would never come - Sirius stood a silent vigil at the cave entrance, occasionally deflecting a claw from the wolf. He wondered if his heart rate would ever return to normal, in the moments before the sun spilled above the hills, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Remus shuddered as his body convulsed back to humanity. Sirius knelt next to him and gently pulled his head into the cushion of his lap. Remus’ eyes flickered open a few moments later. He saw Sirius, and his chapped lips split into a smile.

“Well?” Sirius asked, his heart finally sliding down his throat back into its proper place in his ribcage.

Remus slid a hand up Sirius’ arm to the back of his neck, and pulled him down to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Sirius could taste the thanks on his lips and carded his fingers through the handfuls of honeyed curls. When Remus sank back to the floor, Sirius was breathless, despite the chasteness of the kiss.

“Thank you.”

  


* * *

  


The moon finally dipped below half-full three nights later.

Remus was exhausted by that point, the rigours of the change taking its toll on his body. He was dozing on the pallet as Sirius retrieved some roasted vegetables from the fire pit for them both to eat. It was odd to see the moonlight filtering through the cabin, without the soundtrack of howls it usually brought. Remus looked wound tight still, like the moon still hurt even if it didn’t force him to change, and the light threatened to burn his skin.

Sirius unlaced the shoulders of his armour and dropped them next to his boots and bracers. Remus assured him earlier three days earlier that the woods were friendly to him. The wolves would not attack the cabin, and he had not seen another human in the year he had been living there, so Sirius felt safe enough to remove his armour. He picked up the wooden bowl of roasted vegetables and padded back to the pallet, climbing on to sit next to Remus.

“Here, eat something,” he murmured, rousing Remus from a shallow sleep.

Remus rewarded him with a sleep-warm smile and shifted up into a seated position. “Thank you, Sirius.”

Sirius nodded and settled next to him, tucking the furs around them a little tighter. “Do you need anything?”

Remus shook his head as he chewed on a piece of carrot. “No, I can convince myself I’m a human for two weeks, I’d like to just pretend I’m normal.”

Sirius sighed softly. “You are human, Remus. It’s a curse. The wolf isn’t you.” He reached over and picked up a chunk of vegetable, popping it into his mouth. “And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it. Okay?”

Remus swallowed and rested his head onto Sirius’ shoulder. After a moment, he turned and pressed a kiss to the line of Sirius’ jaw. “Okay.”

They ate in comfortable silence, with their fingers, Sirius nudging the final piece of squash towards Remus as he knew it was his favourite. Remus popped the squash into his mouth with a wry grin and wiped his fingers on Sirius’ shirt in recompense, holding back laughter. Sirius seized his hand then and ran his own fingers up to Remus’ ribs, tickling him mercilessly.

Remus shrieked with laughter, rolling back onto the bed and trying to bring his foot up between their bodies to push him away. Remus was surprisingly strong, the curse lending him supernatural strength, but Sirius won out and pinned the other man to the pallet with a triumphant smile. Remus’ laughter slipped away and Sirius wondered for a moment if he had ever been tickled before, before leaning down and kissing him deeply.

Remus responded immediately, his lips parting against Sirius’, a soft murmur somewhere between surprise and pleasure slipping out. Sirius slid his tongue against the seam of his lips, and gingerly explored the warm cavern of his mouth when Remus allowed him access. After a moments’ coaxing, Remus’ tongue was curling against his. Sirius shifted between Remus’ legs, one hand pushing the furs aside to get closer. A sound of delight issued from Remus’ mouth as Sirius pressed against him, and the noise shot straight to Sirius’ cock.

Sirius broke the kiss and mouthed along the line of Remus’ jaw, tongue tasting the skin there.

“Oh…” Remus breathed, his hands sliding to Sirius’ shoulders and down to clutch at his back.

“You okay?” Sirius paused, breathing heavily into Remus’ neck.

Remus nodded and shifted further down the pallet, his legs falling open to instinctively welcome Sirius into his body. Sirius shuddered in response and laved his tongue over the ivory-blue of the pulse in Remus’ neck. Propping himself up on one hand, Sirius ran the other hand down over the taut planes of Remus’ chest. Remus was warm and pliant in response, like liquid honey, back bowing away from the pallet, eager for more. Sirius nuzzled the tender skin beneath his ear and brushed his fingers lower, finding Remus hard and hot beneath his breeches.

Sirius sat back on his heels then, chest heaving. Remus looked like a painting, sprawled out on furs, lips kiss-swollen, legs splayed. Sirius circled his fingers over the length of Remus through the fabric and watched him bite his lip. “Remus…”

“I-I don’t- I haven’t… done this-” He bit his lip again as Sirius’ fingers circled the head of his cock, “done this before.”

Sirius nodded shallowly and swallowed. “It’s okay…” He withdrew his hand to the top of Remus’ thigh. “Do you want to?”

Remus nodded, watching Sirius’ fingers on his thigh, and sat up to pull Sirius into a heady kiss. They shed their clothes quickly, Remus’ hands stuttering on the ties of Sirius’ armour, but together, the two of them managed, stealing kisses and eager touches. Remus sank back onto the furs, Sirius kneeling between his legs, and met him for another kiss. Sirius’ fingers curled around the heavy length of his cock and Remus gave a low moan, like a wounded animal. Sirius pulled back from the kiss to watch him, sliding his fist over Remus in a sure, slow rhythm. Remus stared back up at him, mouth slack at the feeling of it all, so new and overwhelming.

“Oh, oh…” he breathed as Sirius brushed his thumb over the slit, sweeping up the pearly bead gathered there. Remus reached down blindly, fist curling around Sirius’ length, up and down in a tentative stroke. The breath shuddered from Sirius’ lungs at his eager touch, cool against the near-overwhelming heat of his skin. Remus looked up at him, eyebrow raising to silently ask him if it was okay. Sirius nodded, leaning down to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

“Here,” Sirius moaned as Remus lost his rhythm after a minute, body convulsing to draw him closer to orgasm. He shifted forward and brought their cocks together. Sirius took Remus’ hand in his and together curled their fingers around both of them. Remus shuddered again and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Sirius leant down and licked the bead of blood away, starting again on his sure rhythm. Sirius shuddered at the combination of it all, the heat of Remus’ length against his, the calluses of his fingers between Sirius’, the earthy taste of his mouth.

Remus came first, on a slow twist of Sirius’ wrist, face screwed up against the crashing wave of it, pitching him over the side of the cliff. A soft, low cry issued from his lips that Sirius chased with a kiss. Remus spilled into their combined fists and onto Sirius’ stomach and the slick heat of it sent Sirius falling over the cliff just behind him. Sirius moaned in delight and came in three long, hot pulses over Remus’ abdomen. He collapsed down into the haven of Remus’ body, pressing a whole horde of kisses against the lightly freckled skin of his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his lips.

Remus shuddered beneath him and wrapped his arms tight around Sirius’ well-muscled shoulders, burying his face into the crook of his neck. When Sirius could feel his legs again, he pitched to the side and cast an idle _Scourgify_ before gathering Remus into his chest.

Sirius didn’t have a name for the bubbling in his chest, and he found he didn’t quite feel the need to name it, just content to feed it instead with Remus’ kisses.

Neither of them left the comfort of the furs and a warm body for longer than absolutely necessary over the next two weeks.

  


* * *

  


Four full moons had passed and retreated back to less than half-full when Sirius ducked into the cabin that morning. At the door, he toed off his boots and pulled off his gloves in well-practised movements. It was afternoon, the sun spilling warm golden light over the interior of the room, pooling beautifully over Remus’ pale limbs all tangled in furs.

Remus stirred, lifting his head to watch Sirius shed his armour. He still looked undone from their pleasure of the night before, celebrating the retreat of the wolf for another fourteen days. “You were gone for a while,” he murmured, voice hoarse from all the eager discoveries of each others bodies.

“Aye,” Sirius agreed, crawling onto the pallet towards his lover. “I went to the town, an hours ride north.”

Remus frowned, but lifted the furs to allow Sirius back into their warmth. Sirius tangled their legs and curled his body protectively around Remus’, peppering his shoulder with kisses. Remus waited for Sirius to elaborate - he always preferred the comfortable silence between them, rather than needless words.

Sirius traced his tongue around a scar across Remus’ shoulder blade before he spoke. “I sold my Lion medallion. Melted down for the price of its silver.”

“Sirius!” Remus turned in the loop of his arms and pressed his hands to Sirius’ chest. “Your medallion?! You’re a Witcher, you need that!”

Sirius shrugged one shoulder and kissed the corner of Remus’ mouth. “No, I don’t. It’s been in that crate-” he jutted his chin towards the box next to the fire- “since I met you.”

“But…” Remus sank into Sirius arms and searched his face for any insincerity.

Sirius grinned and lifted one hand to rub his thumb over the little line between Remus’ eyebrows. “I don’t need it, not here, with you, Remus.” He kissed him softly on the mouth, barely pulling back to murmur, “I have you.”

Remus sniffed and kicked the furs up over them a little more. “You only have me for two weeks at a time. The wolf has the other two.” He pouted a little, ducking his head so his hair fell into his eyes. Sirius smoothed the curls back from his forehead and gently tilted his head back up. Remus’ eyes were a startling green that Sirius found even more beautiful every time he saw them, and Sirius had to smile at the sight.

“I do have you, Remus, all the time. I won’t let the wolf have any of you.” Another kiss, because Sirius couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep himself away from the sweet, earthy taste of Remus’ mouth. “Curses can be lifted, we’ll find a way.”

Remus touched his tongue to the swell of his lower lip. “Yeah?”

Sirius grinned back. “Yeah.”


End file.
